From the Many Thrilling Adventures of Jodi McJoy!
		by Van ©2024
		Chapter 5

Jodi definitely remembered the orgasm Bethany had coaxed from her naked, flushed, sweaty, bound, tape-gagged, and shock-collared body back in the steam room!  However, at that point her overheated and overstimulated brain had tripped a breaker—and the next thing she remembered was Bethany Gibson, still naked and wet (probably from a post steam room shower) carrying her in her arms like a naked, peachy-pink, dripping wet, bound and gagged baby... or bride.

It was disgusting.  Jodi didn't know why she'd... swooned?  Damsels are supposed to swoon, she reflected, right?  Anyway, she hadn't passed out from the heat, of that she was certain.  Maybe the combination of the heat, her tiredness from the run, the stress of being fondled in the shower by three beautiful handlers, and Bethany's skilled and obviously experienced finger-fiddling had conspired to make her swoon-susceptible (if she actually had swooned).  Anyway.

Their destination had been Jodi's high-end-motel-room-cell, and during the journey Jodi remembered passing at least one maid, a seriously cute little blonde.  The flaxen-haired beauty had smiled, respectfully stepped aside, and curtsied as Bethany and her naked burden passed.  Jodi had been struck by the maid's amused but blasé manner.  Apparently, encountering dripping wet naked gazillionaires with big boobs and pointy nipples toting around dripping wet naked, bound, and gagged captives went with the job at the Gibson penthouse.  Anyway...
 
Upon arrival at the bedroom Bethany had peeled the tape from Jodi's lips, given her a cool, refreshing drink of water (that was most welcome), then put her to bed...

Zzzzzzzz... 

And then, Sloane roused Jodi from her nap, untied her completely, removed her collar, and served her dinner.  Jodi was too sleepy and grumpy to take advantage of the absence of the collar and give Sloane the tongue-lashing she so richly deserved.

Sloane departed, Jodi ate... afterwards used the powder room... then climbed back into bed and went back to sleep.

Zzzzzzzz...

And now it was morning.  Jodi climbed out of bed and padded into the aforementioned powder room.

"Well... this is new," Jodi muttered to herself (out loud!) as she splashed water on her face, patted it dry with a fluffy towel, and continued staring at her reflection in the mirror.  She'd been referring to not being bound or gagged and having the freedom to mutter to herself without being shocked.  There was still the lack-of-clothing issue, of course, but progress was progress.

Ready to face the day (she hoped) Jodi decided to start working on organizing her notes on the Gibson Gazillionaires' Damsel-in-Distress Development Project.  (She still considered pretending to write to be a Clever Ruse that would make her kidnappers lower their collective guards so she could escape.)  Anyway, Jodi padded to the desk, settled into the comfy office chair, and fired up the computer.

Several minutes of key-tapping, mouse gliding, and file creation later... Sloane arrived with Jodi's breakfast and wished her a cheery "Good morning!"

Jodi ignored the ginger-mega-hottie completely, giving her the proverbial cold (and bare) shoulder.  She realized it was a little ironic that she was still shock-collar-free and finally able to cut the grinning kung-fu-savvy-maid to the bone with a rapid succession of cutting remarks, but she didn't.  Jodi continued typing and ignoring Sloane completely as she set down the breakfast tray and left the bedroom/cell.

Once Sloane was gone, Jodi immediately saved her work, scampered to the small café table with the waiting breakfast, settled into a straight-back wooden chair, and enjoyed a seafood omelet, hash browns, a crisp English muffin (with butter and peach jam), and coffee.  Once finished... she returned to the desk and her literary labors.  As already mentioned, it was all part of her Grand Escape Plan (a plan that was otherwise as nearly empty as the files she'd just created.)  Jodi was busy writing, so the Gibsons would inevitably be fooled into thinking she'd submissively surrendered to their domineering and kinky will and had joined their team.  Hah!  I'll show them!

Several more minutes passed.  Then, Sloane reappeared, probably to collect the depleted breakfast tray, and, to Jodi's surprise, with her came Lulu-maid.  (Jodi still didn't know the actual name of the brunette maid with the fair complexion and Lulu-style pageboy, and she wasn't about to ask.)  Anyway, Sloane prepared the tray for its trip to the scullery while Lulu-maid wheeled an empty chair into the bedroom.

Huh?  Jodi blinked and spun in her office chair to stare at the new chair.  What the hell?  At least stylistically the new seating opportunity was identical to the office chair currently under Jodi's naked butt; however, it was more a hair salon or barbershop chair with a wheeled pedestal base than an office chair.  And oh-by-the-way, it was festooned with a plethora of padded cuffs and dangling straps, all brown leather with gunmetal hardware!  Jodi noted the Gibson's seemed to have a predilection for brown/gunmetal when they decided to go leather, but mostly she was busy trying not to panic!

"No!" Jodi protested (whined), frantically looking from Sloane, to Lulu-maid, to the new chair, and back.

"Jodi-Jodi-Jodi," Sloane purred, smiling evilly and shaking her head, as, together with her fellow maid, she strolled in Jodi's direction.  "Be a good girl."

"I'm writing!" Jodi objected, pointing (frantically) at the computer's panoramic screen.  "I'm supposed to be writing.  Remember?  I can't reach the keyboard if you—Hey-No-Mrrrpfh!"

Sloane had grabbed Jodi, pulled her from the office chair, and was pinning her arms at her sides while Lulu-maid crammed a transparent glob of silicon-rubber into her mouth and rocked it back and forth, expertly seating it in place and insuring Jodi's tongue was trapped in a small chamber in the rear of the blob and she was biting down on its integrated bite-protector.  The plug effectively filled her oral cavity and restricted her jaw movements—but before Jodi could expel the horrid thing—Lulu-maid slapped a strip of Elastoplast or Microfoam tape over her lips, mouth, and lower face!

"Mrrrrrrm!"

Next, working with perfect coordination, the maids plunked Jodi into the new chair and began strapping her in!  Despite the struggling, mewling ginger's best efforts, all too soon Jodi's wrists were cuffed to the armrests, her upper arms to the sides of the chair-back, her ankles to the footrests, and straps were tightening across her thighs, waist, and torso, above and below her bobbling, shaking, and oscillating breasts.

"Nrrrrrm!"

Still working in total synchrony, the maids tightened a head-harness/muzzle/panel-gag over and around Jodi's thrashing head!  Jodi was trying to thrash her head, anyway, but it wasn't working.  Sloane and Lulu-maid took turns, one immobilizing her head while the other tightened and buckled the harness/muzzle's straps and buckles.  It was more of the same stylish, subtly textured, brown leather with gunmetal steel hardware.  When the maids stepped back and smiled (evilly), the harness' thinly padded panel was pressed against Jodi's lower face (which was already covered by her taut, smooth tape-gag), a pair of narrow diagonal straps passed to either side of her unarguably cute button nose, a slightly wider horizontal strap crossed her forehead and encircled her head, and another pair of narrow straps crisscrossed under her chin, forcing her to bite down on the mouth-filling, tongue-trapping, and jaw-immobilizing glob filling her mouth.

"Mrrrrrf!"

Sloane took a step back and watched (shamelessly gloating and looking ravishing as she did so) while Lulu-maid tightened a wide strap across Jodi's throat, pinning her leather-caged and effectively gagged head against the chair's padded headrest.  The strap (which was more or less a posture-collar) was snug, but even Jodi had to admit it wasn't too snug.

Next, Sloane turned to the desk, saved and closed Jodi's work, then tapped the keys for several more seconds.  Her body was kind of in the way so Jodi couldn't follow the full details of what she was doing.  Anyway, having finished messing with Jodi's computer, Sloane stepped aside and rolled the now empty office chair to a new position against a wall and well away from the desk.

As Lulu-maid pushed her new throne-of-captivity forward, Jodi noted the workstation's panoramic screen was now dark.  Back in her former writing position directly in front of the hopelessly-out-of-reach keyboard and staring at the dark display, Jodi heaved a sigh, tried to turn her pinioned head, and did her best to glare at her smiling handlers.

"Enjoy the next show," Sloane purred, then shared a giggle with Lulu-maid as they exited the bedroom.  Sloane was carrying the breakfast tray and Lulu-maid closed the door behind them.  Thud!

Jodi twisted and struggled and tugged on her bound wrists.  "MRRRmpfhhh!" she screamed at the closed door.  Yes, it was rude—very rude—but Sloane and Lulu-maid deserved it.

Then, the panoramic screen began to glow... and once again Jodi found herself involuntarily eavesdropping on an unfolding melodrama she assumed was unfolding elsewhere in the penthouse.

Abby Anders opened her green eyes, blinked in the bright light, then closed them again and began weakly squirming, evaluating her condition.

She was naked.  She remembered being stripped naked by her kidnappers back in the Korean restaurant.  She was still naked.

She was tied up, from her big-toes to her shoulders.  During her abduction she'd been restrained with plasti-cuffs, but her current bonds felt like rope... smooth, conditioned rope... not rough, raw rope.

She wasn't gagged, but something smooth, hard, and rigid was encircling her neck... a collar... or more correctly a choker (although it was a perfect fit and wasn't uncomfortably tight).

Abby decided it was time to try opening her eyes again, and she did.  This time no blinking was necessary.  She lifted her head, shook a few strands of hair from her face, and looked around.

She was in a bedroom... a large, tastefully and expensively decorated bedroom.  There was a great big window with open drapes affording a magnificent view of the New York skyline.  One wall was host to a very large oil painting, a 19th Century urban street scene in the Impressionist style.  (The men were all wearing top hats and black suits with tails and the women in long, full skirts and bonnets.)  But as she watched, the street scene gradually faded and was replaced by an Impressionist landscape.  It's a huge hi-definition TV, Abby realized.

There were the usual furnishings, including two full-size beds.  Abby was lying full-length on her left side on one of the beds, and on the other—Abby's eyes popped wide—was Maggie Malloy!

Abby's fellow actress was naked (as naked as Abby), sitting cross-legged on the slightly rumpled bedspread and busily sketching with a pencil in an artist's sketchbook.

 "You're awake," Maggie observed, smiling the adorable dimpled smile Abby remembered so well, then flipped the page of her sketchbook and resumed sketching.  Obviously, her artistic focus was on Abby Anders.

"Maggie?" Abby inquired, still focusing on her friend.

Maggie was naked, as Abby had previously noted, but not completely.  Her wrists and ankles were "accessorized" with shining steel bracelets and anklets with dangling steel rings!  Although they weren't attached to anything it was clear they had the potential to be used as restraints.  From what Abby could see they had rounded edges and Maggie seemed to be wearing them comfortably (if "comfortably" was the right word).

Also, Maggie was wearing a fully rounded steel collar/choker around her neck.  It also had a dangling steel ring, and, based on her own tactile sense, Abby thought it was similar if not identical to whatever was around her own neck.

"Maggie?" Abby repeated.

Maggie's dimpled smile took on a chagrined twist.  "Sorry."  She closed the sketchbook and set it aside.  "I can finish that later.  I probably have enough to start on a watercolor anyway."

Abby stared at Maggie in something of a daze.  She knew her fellow actress was a talented artist, and in point of fact Maggie's sketches, watercolors, and oils were amazing, but...  "We've been kidnapped you little dweeb!  Untie me!"  She squirmed in her inescapable bonds, then noticed Maggie, who was still smiling, wasn't rushing to her rescue.  Abby frowned.  "We have been kidnapped, right?  Or is it just me?"

"No," Maggie chuckled, "we've both been kidnapped.  But it's not what you think."

Abby hadn't gotten around to thinking about much of anything beyond having been kidnapped, so all she could do was continue staring.  Her frown did fade, however.  "Explain," she demanded.

"Remember that opportunity I emailed you about?" Maggie beamed.  "This is it."

Abby's frown returned.  "Opportunity?  You call this an opportunity?"  To say the least, Abby was skeptical.

Maggie grinned.  "I'll explain."  She then leaned over and picked up a large cell phone or small tablet computer from the bedside table, started tapping its touchscreen, then pointed it at the gigantic impressionist painting slideshow, thus revealing it to be a touchscreen remote.  The current painting froze, then faded and was replaced by a blank screen. 

"There's another slideshow that'll help me explain things," Maggie explained.

"Untie me first," Abby reiterated, "and get me something to wear."

Maggie sighed and shook her head.  "No can do, Abby."  Then, her dimpled smile returned.  "You know the Gibsons?  Peggy and her daughter Bethany?"

"No," Abby intoned.

"Super wealthy billionaires," Maggie stated.  "They're our hostesses and the ones behind this project, and I'm afraid their instructions were quite explicit.  I'm forbidden from untying you, and if I do, we'll both be punished."  She tugged on the ring dangling from her collar/choker.  "These are shock-collars," she explained, "and when they're turned on and you try and talk they sting like crazy!  And, of course, they can be used to shock you even if you don't talk... to punish disobedience."  Inexplicably, she was still smiling her dimpled smile.  "It's all very dreadful, but in any case, no, I can't untie you, not unless they give me permission."  She nodded at the closed door across the bedroom.  It's moot anyway.  The door's locked and there's nothing in the wardrobes... no clothes anyway."

Abby was confused.  Maggie didn't seem to be terrified and intimidated.  Maggie was the clever cutie Abby remembered, although she was no longer a teenager,  Abby's rope bonds was real—their shared and involuntary nudity was real—and, at least in Abby's case, she had been kidnapped!  She remembered it vividly!

Meanwhile two columns of thumbnail-size images of—kinky comic book covers?!—had replaced the former painting, and one-by-one they migrated to the center of the screen... enlarged and remained in place for several seconds... then shrank and returned to their original position... and another took their place.

"We're in on the ground floor of the creation of a new production company!" Maggie stated, "and possibly the creation of a whole new genre of movies and TV!  I'll explain."

Meanwhile, back in Jodi's motel-cell, the 3DP's Official Chronicler squirmed in her stylish leather bonds and stared at the screen in front of her incredulous green eyes.

Maggie Malloy was doing a magnificent job of explaining the purpose and goals of The Gibson Gazillionaires' cinematic master plan, expounding on all the same details that had been revealed to Jodi herself by the kidnapping mother and daughter.  Obviously, the super-mega-cutie with the killer dimples and not-so-big-but-really-cute boobies had been fully briefed—and more importantly—either Maggie Malloy was fully on board with the nefarious scheme or was a world class actress doing a stunning job of playing it coy.

As for Abby Anders... the one with the long, straight, ginger hair, gorgeous and classically beautiful face, nice hooters, and about as many freckles as the Gibsons had hundred dollar bills... she seemed to be accepting her kidnapping and involuntary recruitment into the 3DP.  Jodi suspected it was the prospect of starring in numerous movies and possibly even a TV series or two and finally getting a chance to do some screenwriting that was making her overlook a little thing like being abducted.  Maggie was stressing the writing issue.  Apparently (obviously) she knew Abby had long desired to add writing credits to her IMDb page.

Anyway, both Maggie and Abby seemed more concerned with career opportunities than the fact that they'd been grabbed, stripped naked, and were currently being held prisoner by bat-shit-crazy Gazillionaires!  Go figure.

Also, Maggie had explained the "Method" aspect of the project and how that was the reason they'd been inflicted with actual abduction and genuine bondage, with the prospect of much more to follow!  Abby seemed okay with that too!

Maybe its an actress thing, Jodi mused.  In any case, Jodi McJoy wasn't okay with serial bondage.  Jodi McJoy didn't need firsthand experience in being bound and gagged!

Finally, Maggie's presentation wound down, the kinky-covers-slide-show in their magnificent bedroom ended, and what Jodi recognized as a perfect hi-definition two dimensional copy of Georges Seurat's A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte took its place on the screen.  The giant picture-frame-TV was back to its slow-and-drawn-out perpetual slideshow of Impressionist Art.

Jodi scowled at the screen.  Why did the actresses rate a better bedroom-prison than a talented and arguably successful writer and renowned intrepid investigative reporter like Jodi McJoy?  Why did Maggie and Abby have a bigger and less spartan bedroom... with things like a vase of fresh flowers, an 18" bronze statuette of a naked chick striking a graceful pose, and a framed TV providing a never-ending tour of the world's great art galleries?  When was Jodi going to get all that?  When was she going to get a beautiful roommate?  It wasn't fair!

Then, the panoramic monitor above the out-of-reach keyboard on the desk went dark and Jodi's ability to eavesdrop on Maggie and Abby was terminated.

Minutes passed... slowly.  Jodi was still strapped to her new salon/barber chair at her wrists, upper-arms, thighs, ankles, waist, and torso (including straps above and below her not-as-perfect-as-Abby's-but-bigger-and-better-than-Maggie's breasts).  Also, she still had that horrible silicon-rubber glob stuffed in her mouth, trapping her tongue and immobilizing her jaws, the strip of Elastoplast/Microfoam tape sealing her lips, and the head-harness caging her head  and its panel pressing against her mouth!  That wasn't fair either!  She weakly tugged on her wrist-cuffs and strained against the various straps... just for something to do.

Finally, the bedroom door opened and Jodi was no longer alone.

However—Jodi's green eyes popped wide above the gag-panel and to either side of the narrow head-harness straps framing her button nose!—the two women striding in her inadequately magnificent bedroom weren't Sloan and Lulu-maid—they were Peggy Gibson and Lisa Packshaw!

Not to Abby's great surprise, the Gibson matriarch was wearing one of her hyper-expensive and stunningly stylish custom tailored business ensembles: high-heels, hose, skirt, blouse, and jacket.

Lisa, on the other hand, was wearing... a very expensive and very stylish custom tailored business ensemble: high-heels, hose, skirt, blouse, and jacket, all in autumn colors that complemented her gingerness.  The truly surprising part, of course, was that Lisa wasn't naked and tied up with paracord, rope, leather restraints, etc.; nor was she tape-gagged, cleave-gagged, ball-gagged, panel-gagged, or gagged in any way whatsoever!  Lisa Packshaw was not a prisoner!

"There, see?" Peggy said as they strode towards Jodi and her chair.  "Like I told you, Ms. McJoy is just fine.  She's even started writing."

Lisa smiled, stepped directly behind Jodi's chair, reached over the chair-back from either side, cupped Jodi's breasts, and gently squeezed!

"Mrrrmpfh!" Jodi complained, squirming as best she could given her tight leather restraints.

"You're writing?" Lisa purred, her lips inches from Jodi's left ear.  "That's wonderful.  Welcome to the team."

"Mrrrmgfhrrm!" Jodi responded, which was very rude.  If the remark had been intelligible, Lisa probably would have been deeply offended.

Lisa directed her dimpled smile to Peggy.  "I have a suggestion that might improve her productivity," she chuckled.

"Sloane will be here shortly to release my resident chronicler her from the chair," Peggy stated.  "Now, if you're quite finished playing with her breasts, let's discuss the next phase of the project.  The two imminent acquisitions must be welcomed into the fold with... great delicacy."

"To put it mildly," Lisa purred, continuing to knead Jodi's boobs.  (Jodi continued squirming.)  "Jodi would look very pretty with shorter hair, don't you think?"

"MRRRRRF!" Jodi screamed into her gag and suddenly became very nervous.  She did not agree.

Peggy frowned.  "How short?"

"Mrrrrrm!" Jodi objected (whined).  No involuntary haircuts!  No involuntary haircuts!

Lisa was teasing Jodi's nipples with her fingertips (which were popping erect in response)!  "Oh..." the grinning industry insider responded, "anything from an above-the-shoulders tousled mop, like Maggie Malloy—to a pageboy—to a Dorothy-Hamill-wedge—to a full-blown pixie.  She'd be devilishly cute... and less trouble for Sloane and her fellow handlers when they put her in hoods and helmets."

"True," Peggy agreed, "but hair length is a personal decision, like nipple piercing and tattoos."

Jodi's eyes popped to their maximum width!  "MRRRRRFH!"

"Calm down, Ms. McJoy," Peggy chuckled, then slapped Lisa's hands aside and took her place behind the chair.  Now, instead of an entertainment industry insider toying with Jodi's tits, an obscenely wealthy matriarch was squeezing her boobs!

"Mrrrrrf!"

"We won't go there," Peggy purred as she gently massaged Jodi's already well-massaged hooters.  "Besides, I think her current hairstyle is adorable.  Periodic sunbathing to see how she looks with more freckles.  That's as far as I'll go."  She then released Jodi's breasts and together with Lisa strolled back towards the open door.  "We'll discuss acquiring our next targets, like I said, but not here."

"You want to preserve the surprise for Jodi," Lisa purred.

"Among other things," Peggy intoned, and then—Thud!—the bedroom door closed and once again Jodi was alone; naked, strapped in the chair, and gagged.

Jodi noted her boobs were tingling, and her nipples were really tingling, as well as being flushed, fully erect, rigid, and pointing... which she supposed was entirely understandable.  She heaved a gagged sigh and settled in to wait for Sloane.  Peggy had promised the ginger-mega-hottie would be arriving "shortly."  Jodi assumed it would be to release her from the chair... which would be a good thing.

Jodi languished in the mandatory comfort of her new salon/barber chair for an additional and interminable five minutes... maybe even six!

Finally, the bedroom door opened and Sloane entered.

"Mrrrfh!" Jodi complained, glaring and squirming petulantly.  It took you long enough!  Lulu-maid was right behind her, and both maids were toting compact but apparently heavy black cases of ballistic plastic.  They were each about the size of a hatbox, but substantially flatter, and for some reason Jodi doubted they contained hats, not even bonnets or berets.

Without saying a word Lulu-maid placed her case on the floor near the desk, while Sloane placed hers on the desk, released its spring-loaded latches—Snap-snap!—and opened its lid.

Jodi's eyes popped wide.  Inside the case, nestled in black foam padding, were four shining steel cuffs, and Jodi recognized them as copies of the steel bracelets and anklets with dangling steel rings Maggie Malloy had been wearing in the magnificent double-bedroom she shared with Abby Anders!

"Mrrrk?"

Working in concert (as always) the maids released Jodi's leather wrist and ankle cuffs and replaced them with the steel cuffs in the case!  Click-click-click-click!

"Mrrrf!"

Jodi couldn't tell how the cuffs were secured.  Maybe the locks were mechanical and maybe they were magnetic.  Anyway, her wrists and ankles were no longer secured to the chair, but all the other straps were still buckled tight and she wasn't going anywhere... not quickly, anyway.

Meanwhile, Sloane had closed the now empty cuff-case and set it on the floor while Lulu-maid lifted the second case, placed it on the desk, released its latches—Snap-snap!—and opened its lid, revealing...

Jodi blinked her green eyes.  Chains!  In point of fact, they were steel chains with nestled links, the kind often used for pet collars or leashes (if the pet's owner wasn't into leather).

The maids continued "dressing" Jodi in her new shiny steel outfit.  It quickly became clear that while Maggie's cuffs had been involuntary fashion statements (at least at the moment), with the addition of the chains Jodi's cuffs would be parts of a traditional "slave-chains" ensemble!

The arrangement was like a capital "H" rotated ninety degrees.  Two steel rings were joined by a vertical length of chain—a pair of much shorter horizontal chain linked each of the wrist-cuffs to the upper ring—and two more horizontal chains linked each of the ankle-cuffs to the lower ring. 

The dangling rings of the four cuffs were secured to the ends of their respective chains using unusual double-ended padlocks—Click-click-click-click!—and then, Sloane reached into her apron pocket and pulled out one the hated steel shock-collars!

This did not improve Jodi's mood.  "Nrrrrrm!"

Sloan released the chair's neck strap, locked the collar around Jodi's neck, then attached the remaining vertical segment from the chain-set's upper ring to the collar's dangling front ring.  Then, the grinning (gloating) maid released the chair's remaining straps and lifted her to her bare and now shackled feet.

While that was happening, Lulu-maid had closed and latched the chain and cuff cases, carried them to a cabinet, and locked them inside.

Jodi glowered at the watching domestics as she tugged, twisted, and tested her new restraints.  She found she could stand perfectly erect, but her wrists and ankles only had about two feet of play.  She'd probably be able to reach most of her anatomy, if she wanted, but contortion would be required.

Next, Sloane held Jodi steady and smiled (in a despicably gloating manner) into her chained fellow ginger's angry green eyes while Lulu-maid stepped behind Jodi and unbuckled and removed the head-harness... then peeled the tape from, her lips, mouth, and lower face.  Next, Sloane reached into her mouth and plucked out the silicon-rubber blob.  (Jodi considered trying to bite Sloane's fingers while the blob extraction was happening, but decided it would be imprudent.)

Then, still not having said a word, the maids strolled in the direction of the bedroom door.

Jodi was standing more-or-less in the middle of the bedroom/cell and staring daggers at her handlers' backs (and darts at their uniform-covered butts).  Given the renewed presence of the shock-collar, silence seemed as prudent a course of action as not biting anybody's fingers.

Lulu-maid exited first.  Then, Sloane paused in the threshold, turned, and finally spoke.  "By the way, Ms. McJoy, at the moment your collar is not energized."  She then closed (and presumably locked) the door behind her.

Jodi blinked and stared at the closed portal for a few seconds... then threw a full-blown tizzy-fit, rattling and tugging on her chains, stomping her bare and shackled feet, and vociferously questioning the ancestry of Sloane and Lulu-maid and expounding on their alleged predilections for cross-generational incest, unconventional animal husbandry practices, and other socially frowned upon activities!

Afterwards, everyone who had occasion to view the security footage of Jodi's tirade universally agreed that it was very cute.